The Beginnings of Zion
by Crow Dish
Summary: This is a story about the first "One" and his life as it was touched on in the first movie.
1. First Contact

Samuel Magdalene lay on his side, curled up in his small bed. He had a small apartment, three rooms; a bedroom, a kitchen and a bathroom. The blankets were all bunched up at the foot of the bed. He was sleeping. It was blissful. He hadn't slept in such a long time. Even so, he didn't look content. It was a stressful, tense sleep. His face was plastered with a look of despair, and almost distrust. He looked like a broken man.  
Samuel's skin was pale, partly naturally, partly from the fact that he had been sickly lately. He had red hair and although it was fairly bright, or it least it would have been if there had been any light in the room to reflect off of it, but it probably would be a reach to describe it as flaming. His face was covered in faint freckles, giving him a boyish look. He was in his mid twenties, but he looked slightly younger, maybe twenty or twenty-one. He was wearing faded blue jeans and a baggy black t-shirt. He had a thin, slightly scrawny frame, and an expressional face.  
His room was relatively dark. The only light was the homely glow of his computer, which was sitting innocently on the desk, which was jammed up next to his bed. It was open to some random search engine with nothing typed into the box. He'd left it like that about five hours before, when he'd decided that he had a chance at sleep and dropped everything. He drifted off almost immediately, and it was a beautiful thing to him. Even the five hours he could get could give him some restoration. The glow shone dully on his face, casting eerie shadows around his features.  
He gave a slight twitch in his sleep, as if he was having a dream. He looked uncomfortable, or at least somewhat frustrated about something. Next to him, the computer flashed momentarily black, then almost immediately was back to normal. Except for one word. "Matrix." It was typed into the search box. Maybe it meant nothing, maybe something important. What had created it? Samuel's mind. Did he know? Maybe, somewhere deep down inside.  
The form of the man stirred, slightly. He felt it. A tug at something inside of him. Just a slight pull at some kind of power that was contained in him. And it felt so good.  
Something compelled him to wake up a few seconds after the computer flickered. Maybe it was the warm surge of power he felt flowing through him, even in his slumber. Maybe it was a coincidence. Whatever the reason, groggily he opened his eyes - the first thing he saw was the computer. No longer on a search page at all, the screen was completely black. Slightly confused, he blinked once to get the tiredness out of his eyes, which shone a brilliant green, even in the semidarkness.  
While he was thinking about it, his computer answered his question for him. A green message slowly scrolled across the screen. "Matrix, eh?" it asked casually. "Is that what you're calling it?"  
As suspicious as it may seem, he knew exactly what the hacker meant. After a moment's pause, he gave a slight flex to his fingers, placed them on the keyboard and began to type. They flew across the keys, clicking away at an alarming rate. "Not really," he admitted in his reply. "But it's as good a term as any. What word have you employed for it?" He didn't know who it was that was contacting him, but he figured if he just went along with it, he might learn something important.  
"I've been calling it the Astral Plane," the words informed him. "My friend Ira calls it a Splinter." They paused for a moment; apparently the hacker was thinking. "You say you didn't use the phrase Matrix, but you just typed it into a search box, minutes ago."  
Samuel was puzzled. "I did no such thing," he protested weakly, even though he suspected the hacker had it right. They knew about the thing, the fact that the world was wrong, and also that he knew about it as well. "Okay, I give up. Who are you?" he typed instead, rubbing the back of his neck as he waited for an answer.  
"Angel Cadens," the computer said. "Hieroglyphic. Glyphic for short. But maybe the real question is, who are you?"  
He didn't answer at first. She made first contact. Why was she asking about his identity? "Shouldn't you already know?" he asked, purposely not giving too much away.  
"No," the answer was short, sweet and to the point.  
"Then why are you contacting me?"  
A pause.  
"Because I think you're important." Again, this Glyphic person got the best of his tired mind.  
Slightly frustrated, he glared at the computer screen. "Explain," he demanded. It sounded harsh in his head, but he knew that typed text was impersonal in that respect.  
She got the message well enough. "I can't..." she admitted. The dots made it seem somewhat sheepish in Samuel's mind. "I just had this sudden urge to hack. I don't quite remember... Next thing I knew, I was in your system. When I saw the word 'matrix', I know why I was in; you knew about it too. So I contacted you."  
He considered each word carefully, finally deciding it was a fair answer. He'd had the same feeling many times lately, things he couldn't explain and didn't understand. Before he could express any of this to the woman on the other side, she spoke again.  
"What's your name?"  
"Samuel."  
"But what can I call you?"  
"Voltage."  
It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. 


	2. Enter Aximo & Rainy Dae

It was two weeks later. Two teenagers walked along the side of a road. The traffic was light; they were in a suburb of a big city and the sun was setting. Woods were on either side of the street, and the kids walked on the concrete to avoid mud. The girl was tall and lanky, eighteen or nineteen years in age. She actually looked not unlike Samuel; fair skin, red hair, small frame. However, she lacked freckles, and her hair was a more subtle shade of red than his. It looked at first like a burnt brown color, but as soon as the sun shone on it, it shimmered a golden auburn. She was wearing a white blouse with a black t-shirt over it; the collar of the blouse stuck out from under the shirt. Over that, a dark green trench coat that reached about down to her ankles. She could have passed for quite a bit older than she was, if it wasn't for the wide smile pasted across her face, which seemed to take years off her life.  
The boy was a few inches shorter, but looked just a couple years younger, maybe seventeen. He had dirty blonde hair and huge blue eyes, magnified by the thick lenses of his glasses. He was wearing khaki colored cargo pants, and a blue and off-white striped shirt. He lagged slightly behind the girl, his legs not being quite long enough to keep up with her powerful strides.  
"Slow... down... Glyph..." he panted between breaths, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He wasn't just small and lanky, he was downright scrawny.  
She paused momentarily, allowing him to catch up, and then started again, slightly slower than before. "Come on, Ira," she scolded. "I know for a fact you can do better than that."  
He gave a light sigh and pushed a lock of dusty hair out of his face. It was at an awkward length; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get it to stay behind his ear for very long. "The faith you have in me is inspiring," he assured her, only partially sarcastically. The faith she had in him was what kept him going, whether he knew it or not. "But don't call me that."  
"Sorry, Ira. Ah... sorry!"  
He smiled a small story, a knowing grin, and his eyes twinkled ever so slightly. "You can call me Ira if you really want to."  
She looked over to him and her eyes smiled. "Aww... how cute," she mused cheerfully. "Thanks, hun."  
He'd given up on trying to get her to stop with the 'hun' a while back. In fact, he'd actually started to like the term of endearment, even if she used it extremely loosely. Anyone she knew for more than a couple days could be 'hun.'  
All of a sudden, Glyphic turned, stepping off the road and onto the grass, altering her path directly into the trees. Ira, lost in his own thoughts, didn't notice for another few steps and as soon as he realized he wasn't with his friend anymore, he snapped his head around, spotting her among the tree trunks. "Hey!" he exclaimed, and his voice cracked slightly. Even if he was in his late teens, his voice had never really fully changed, and it would do the adolescence crack whenever he was excited about something. He had a small voice, fairly high for a male, but not abnormally so. He turned around and quickly trotted over to the girl's side. "Where are you going?"  
She laughed a full, loud, musical laugh, low but undoubtedly female, long and contagious. Ira was confused, and even insecure about the new surroundings among the huge trees; their size overwhelmed him, and he was suspicious of the darkness. He wasn't a coward, he was just a little paranoid. He'd seen some bad things in his relatively short lifetime. Despite all that, Glyphic laughed and everything felt better. Her laugh was so gigantic, it seemed to just fill him up inside and it warmed him up from the inside out. He grinned contently, following her obediently, although he still didn't know where they were going.  
"I told you we were meeting them under the bridge," she told him patiently. "What did you think we were going to do, jump off the side?"  
"No," he snapped, a little too defensively, an extremely sheepish grin creeping onto his face. He hadn't really thought that specifically, but he definitely hadn't ruled it out. He'd learned a long while back that when he was with Glyph, anything could happen, even thing he had no idea were possible. He put a lot of faith and trust in her in that regard. He kept close behind her, looking around, incredibly suspiciously. She grinned internally, but would never let him see her smiling at his fright.  
After a couple minutes, the shadows faded and they stepped out into the dim sunlight. The sun was close to the edge of the horizon, a stunning orange that dazzled the surface of the water with its glittering reflection. A man was sitting on a large rock on a small piece of land jutting out underneath the silver bridge. He stared out to the horizon, as if he was looking for something, something way out there that maybe he was meant for. He had hopeful, searching eyes that just made Glyphic want to cry. For a few moments, she stood there, watching him helplessly, feeling so sorry for him she could almost cry.  
Finally, a tap on the shoulder from Ira brought her back to her senses. She shook her head slightly, then grinned, vowing to help the man. "You must be Samuel!" she exclaimed in her rich voice, as if they were old friends. In her confident strides, she approached him, extending a hand. "I'm Glyphic."  
He stood, offering her a weak smile. He looked much the same as he did the night two weeks before, but with the addition of dark, purple bags underneath his eyes. "I figured as much," he assured her, grasping her hand and shaking it almost forcefully. "I have to admit I was surprised, though. I didn't expect you to be so..." He trailed off, trying very hard not to be rude.  
"Young?" she offered. It was obvious what he was getting at, but she wasn't offended in the least.  
"Exactly," he agreed, slightly relieved. He had a deep, yet reserved voice, and something about it sounded kind. Glyph grinned at him. She liked him already.  
She nodded, letting go of his hand, which had been cold enough to give her a chill. "I judge people on their handshake," she informed him matter- of-factly. "I like men with a good firm handshake." Behind her, Ira flushed a slight shade of pink.  
Samuel turned his gaze to the boy and flashed him an amused grin. "Glyphic, why don't you introduce me to your friend?" he asked politely, winking one eye slyly at Ira as if to say, 'Yeah, I know what she can be like, too.' Ira crossed his arms and offered a big smile and a slight shrug. It clearly stated, 'Yeah, but you can't help but love her.' Samuel nodded and they both understood. Right there, knowing nothing about each other, they were friends.  
Meanwhile, the oblivious Glyphic babbled on, almost absently. "Oh, how rude, I'm so sorry. This is Ira Foley. Ira, you know Samuel."  
Ira stepped forward, holding out his hand. "Aximo," he informed Samuel. Just because he'd finally given in to Glyph didn't mean he was going to willingly surrender to everyone.  
"Voltage," Samuel admitted. He hadn't wanted to hurt Glyphic's feelings, but he didn't really have a grasp on what she cared about yet. Instead of shaking Ira's hand, he gave a sideways high five. His eyes gleamed in a way that they hadn't in a long time. He liked these people, and they seemed to like him as well.  
In the meantime, Glyphic was looking up with a grin on her face. Ira looked over at her, then followed her gaze up to the bridge. To his surprise, there was a girl leaning on the railing, staring blankly out into space. "Eve?" Glyph called up to her, almost quizzically. "Eve Trelf?"  
The girl looked down and nodded. She had long black hair, extremely straight. Her skin wasn't particularly dark, but it still had quite a bit more color than that of anyone else who was present. Her eyes were a memorizing brown. Her lips were thin, and she looked like the quiet type; something about her just subtlety told everyone else that she wasn't the kind of person who would talk very often. She also had a mysterious aura around her, slightly eerie but very intriguing. "Rainy Dae," she called down, her voice breathy. Apparently, she had something in common with the two men as well; she wasn't about to lie down and let Glyphic destroy her name. "I was wondering how long until I would be noticed."  
Glyph just smiled. "I saw you up there," she assured the other girl, who looked about twenty-one in age. Ira blushed slightly; he had failed to notice her, but then again, he hadn't expected to be meeting anyone other than Samuel, who gave him a sideways glance of sympathy. Apparently, he hadn't spotted the girl either, in all his time sitting there.  
"Is this everyone?" he asked, turning away from Ira and back to Glyphic. He hadn't expected Rainy Dae either, and it made him wonder if there were going to be any other surprise visitors.  
"Yes," the redhead answered obediently. "We're it. Everyone I could find that knew about the Matrix." Everyone fell even more silent that they already were. The term she'd adopted from Samuel packed a great punch, apparently. It hadn't really hit any of them before that there might only be four of them.  
Ira was the first to find the courage to speak, but his voice was even smaller than normal. The task he was about to suggest sounded daunting, even in his mind. "So does that mean... the four of us have to save the world?" 


End file.
